Pretty, Tempting, Cursed Yellow Sundress
by SSA Ariadne Felicity Grey
Summary: Storm Fullbuster absolutely hated Nashi Dragneel. "He needed her out of that pretty, tempting, cursed yellow sundress she wore for that dumb Take-Over Mage. NOW." Storm Fullbuster X Nashi Dragneel. Fairy Tail: New Generation.
_Cinnamon_.

That is the flavor that rises above everything else.

Smoky, sweet, and smoldering, he presses firmer against her, desperate and pleading.

It is the heat, her heat, that compels him to align every part of him on every part of her, heat that ignites something flaring and forbidden from the inside, reducing his being to chasing lips and twitching fingers.

He is pathetic, and he knows it, yet her rough fingers play daintily with his dark hair and her silken locks slip between the spaces of the hand that wasn't seared to her hip and suddenly he doesn't care if she's winning.

He was always weak for her.

He hears something, high-pitched and urging, and he would have been mortified to realize the keening was scratching out from the back of his throat, but she doesn't give him time to be humiliated by his own impatience when she tears off his hands from her…

… and pulls him off the front door and up the stairs.

He would never admit the pang in his chest when he thought she was pulling away.

They never reach his room. Too far.

In the stairwell, he reaches forward from behind her and pulls the tip of her chin down towards him, ravaging and soothing.

He nips at her swollen lips, cups her flushed cheeks with his cool hands, and traces her cheekbones with his thumb.

He touches his forehead against hers, his like one plagued with chills whilst hers like a fevered madman's. He nudges her nose with his own, playful and teasing, and she returns the challenge.

Her brown eyes spark like a growing bonfire, and her laughter is the sunshine that thaws a winter's day.

The warmth of her fingers snug in the spaces of his other hand is enough.

Then her short, tight yellow dress registers in the darker recesses of his mind, and the contact is suddenly _far_ from "enough".

He is the one pulling her now, needing her in his private space with her cinnamon scent on his covers and her pink lip gloss staining his pillows, needing her to calm his rage and fuel his passions, needing to bite her plump lips until they bleed and scab over, needing to bruise her nape with his kisses and sore her wrists with his grip.

He needed her out of that pretty, tempting, cursed yellow sundress she wore for that dumb Take-Over Mage.

 _Now._

Barging into his bedroom, stumbling across the clothes-strewn floor, he pushes her on his bed and falls in after her.

He takes her wrists in his clutches and his arms cage her strong, small form between the cushions and his body. She will be receiving no quarter from him today.

He blows a cold breathe an inch above her, fanning away wisps of her hair and teasing her red, wet lips.

A warm sigh escapes her hot mouth, caressing his color-dusted cheeks and he can taste her on his tongue again, barely and inviting.

She doesn't even have to try to outdo him. She was always his undoing.

He allows her a brief respite and drinks and gulps in the sight of her with eyes dark with greed.

Her soft mouth quivering with breathless pants.

Heavily-lidded eyes like liquid embers.

Her overcomplicated hairstyle messed up and ruined.

Her red, scaly scarf that will perfectly hide the little secrets he was eager to whisper against her delicate throat.

The thin, fragile straps that kept her annoyingly adorable dress wrapped around her skinny waist and her flat chest and her near-inexistent hips and chubby tummy and yet audaciously flaunted her square butt and gross, short legs and her cute little toes-

"Hey Ice Princess, you got asthma or something? You're breathing a little fast there."

-and that damn smartass mouth.

 _Shut her up. Shut her up now._

He takes a long pull of her intoxicating cinnamon-tainted mouth, tugging at her lower lip with his front teeth, swiping over her top lip with his tongue. She tastes vaguely of strawberries, and somehow he knows such a taste didn't belong on his temptress.

He presses moist kisses on the outline of her breakable jaw, unwinding the loose knot of her red scarf, revealing the smooth, sinful, sinuous curve of her neck.

He binds her wrists above her head with the blood-scarlet fabric.

Hands free to roam and touch, he conforms his palms to the flesh linking her face to her nape, fingertips bunching into her cerise locks, as if he was trying to leave fingerprints on her scalp.

His hands drag over every trifle of exposed skin, slow and treacherous.

"Don't you usually put up more of a fight than this, Flame Brain?"

But he really didn't mind the tiny whimpers and half-formed cusses that vibrate pass sharp, clenched teeth.

Chilled fingers flick over the parts covered with yellow. He dare not think about her heaving chest, or the slight dip of her stomach that the yellow sundress shows off, or the noticeable shape of the flow where her waist and hips meet make.

He forces himself to abstain from any mental image of her kind-of flawless, sort-of long thighs wiggling beneath his weight.

And if her tiny toes tickle his ankles again, he will not be able to promise to return Nashi Dragneel to her father untouched.

Not even on Mavis Vermillion's name.

Though after he's done with his Fire Dragonslayer, Natsu- _jiisan_ would smell Storm Fullbuster on every centimeter of his daughter.

After all, she wasn't going anywhere near anyone if she didn't.

With one swift move, he unravels the white ribbon tying up her hair in a preposterous bun-braid-side-ponytail.

Letting the offensive hair accessory flutter to the floor, the Ice-Make Mage pulls back to admire his handiwork.

She was a mess.

 _His_ mess.

His and his alone.

"All of _that_ for the bastard Dreyar?"

 _And all of that_ gone.

Only the yellow sundress Mirajane _-san_ and Lucy _-san_ prettied her up in remained.

His mouth descends and latches on the right strap, over her red guild mark ( _"For Grandfather Igneel!"_ ), and as the bit of cloth soaks in his mouth, he slowly slides the deplorable hurdle off her slim shoulder.

He strives to look her in the eye as he busies himself, smirking, expecting heavy blushing, exploded pupils and sailor curses.

Not scrunched up brows and wide, disbelieving eyes.

"What do you mean?"

If this was any other girl, he would have laughed. He would have scoffed. He would have spouted a bunch of hurtful, spiteful words befitting Gray Fullbuster's child.

But this was Nashi. And Nashi never fibbed.

"The dress. The hair. The make-up. You're trying to impress Alexus. And with that stint you must've pulled at the guild, surely you were the perfect little damsel in distress. How could he resist you?"

Nashi promptly socks him in the cheek with her binded fists.

The spider tendrils of pain spreading across his face are welcome sensations rather than the gnawing hollow ache beneath his ribs.

"You damn Snowman! Happy was in danger! What the hell-"

Her kiss-swelling mouth gapes open in realization.

" _HAPPY!_ "

And she is out the door.

Storm continues to lie on his messy bedroom floor, she'll find Happy sleeping in the Lockser-Fullbuster family living room where they had left him, warm and safe wrapped in one of Monsoon's blankies.

 _Happy._

* * *

Nashi was crying.

That was wrong. The sky is blue, the grass is green, the sun rises in the East, Cana _-san_ is a bleary drunkard and Nashi Dragneel never cries.

At least never in front of him.

And Happy shouldn't look like a cat-sicle but here he was, cuddled up in Nashi's arms, her hands flickering with tiny flames that fail to lick away the ice that encased the Exceed's small form.

"Some bastards attacked us on our way home from a mission and-"

"Storm, please." The rosette sobbed, cooing to Happy's mewling, bruised, cut, frozen body.

"Wrap him in your scarf and follow me." Storm said, shrugging off his coat, of his own accord rather than his inherited unconscious stripping habit, as Nashi unwound her scarf and curled the cat with it.

"I'll find those motherbangers and when I do..."

The Ice Make Mage chuckled at her anger. That was good. A true Dragneel morphed any emotion, injustice, sadness, fear, into a brutal, unforgiving rage that incinerated any of those who dare oppose their wrath.

That was Nashi.

Storm moved to cover the Fire Dragonslayer, since she got cold easily. Though she inherited her father's magic and abilities, she was just as susceptible to a drop in temperature as her mother is.

That was when he noticed just what she was wearing.

Covering the girl more for concealment than warmth, he buttoned up his coat in the front, leaving the few top buttons open for Happy to breath.

"This might help keep him warm. Keep on lighting those flames, Pinky. We're not far from my house." And Storm strode off, not bothering to look back and check if his rival-since-birth was following him or not.

He swallowed a lump that had somehow accumulated in his throat. There was no way… Must be a trick of the light or an illusion brought upon by the panic.

"We're here."

The Lockser-Fullbuster family were all on missions right now, his parents off defeating some dark guild, his sister Monsoon, partnered with Nashi's brother Igneel, chasing thieves in a town a train ride away, and Storm himself was just about to leave on a mission of his own when Nashi intercepted him with Happy's emergency.

"Lay him on the couch. I'll get Dad's old spellbooks."

The two teenagers moved fluidly with each other as always, yet for once silent of all the usual bickering and cajoling.

Having located the right book, Storm turned back to his two guests.

Nashi was unbuttoning his large, white overcoat.

He would never admit it (though he probably would to Rosemary Fernandes since she just _loves_ this kind of stuff and would most likely make him suffer forever if he denied it) but he actually, just a bit, likesitwheneverNashiworehisclothes.

There was always a pleasant, warm stirring somewhere between his chest and in the pit of his stomach whenever he saw her wearing his coat or his shirt, and even one time his jeans. (He strips during his toughest fights, which are usually with her, and she keeps his clothes to spite him to the point she forgets which clothes were his and which are hers so she doesn't purposely try to make him feel like a dozen teddy bears are baking crumpets in his chest or those same teddies were doing somersaults in his stomach, but she still _does_ and it pisses him off.)

But what he never thought of before was just how _enthralling_ it was to watch Nashi Dragneel _take off_ his clothes.

The stupid lump was stuck in his throat again, and his mouth felt awfully dry.

He needed a drink.

Riiiiiiiiight after this.

Never, not while training with Dad or studying with Mom or teaching Monsoon how to ride a bike or getting yelled at by Master Laxus or scolded by Rosemary, had he _ever_ paid so much attention to a single person doing such a simple thing.

Not unless it was Nashi. Overlooking the rosette usually got him a mouthful of fire.

Her long, calloused fingers finally unhooked the last bottom button, and she pushed out of his coat and placed the frostbitten Happy on one of the armchairs.

She couldn't be… But…

… she is.

Storm Fullbuster couldn't believe it.

Nashi Dragneel really was wearing a dress.

It was a nice dress, frilly and flowy, short and low-cut.

Yellow really did look beautiful on her, a warm, joyful color that went with the life in her eyes and the leap in her stride.

He hated the damn thing.

And he hated she was wearing it.

For once, he wouldn't mind fire. A huge, blazing, roaring fire. If fire would destroy every shred of the polluted thing, then fire couldn't be that bad.

Nothing that teased the sight and flirted with the imagination like _that_ should ever be in existence.

Or at least shouldn't be in the possession of his spitfire.

Too many miles of peaches-and-cream skin was vulnerable to the hungry eyes of perverts everywhere, and what the awful thing _did_ cover seemed much _worse_.

Her bosom- he didn't even know she _had_ a bosom- almost… almost s _trained_ against the frilly fabric.

Her corset seemed unnecessary yet it still clung to her _curves._ Was she even allowed to have curves?

And why did it have to be so Mavis-be-damned _short_? Okay, cool, she had legs, she had freaking fantastic legs, she had legs he'd worship from Mavis to Zeref and back but she didn't have to let all of Fiore know that!

Where was his rival, his sparring partner, the little bitch whose ass he would kick because he wanted her to have at his? Where was the nerdy bookworm who unknowingly wore his shirts and looked like she went shopping at _Natsu Dragneel's Closet 2-4-1 On Baggy Fighting Pants_?

He didn't like this Nashi. He didn't like her being cute for every hormone-raging bastard in Magnolia to fawn and fall over.

 _He didn't want to_ share.

"-yo, Snow Cone! Ice Block! Elsa! Happy could be _dying_ here!"

The Ice Make Mage shook away those dangerous thoughts. They had work to do.

After a quick scan, they had pinpointed the exact kind of magic that was used on Happy.

"It isn't magic." Storm stated.

"It's a chemical. Those wizards we were fighting, they weren't just wizards. They were Alchemists." Nashi confirmed.

Alchemists were rare and powerful, using the elements of the earth and the mechanics of the universe to create potions and items beyond comprehension. Without the use of magic.

Chemicals and Innovations.

Most of the Alchemists were good mages who have utilized their skills and knowledge for the good of all Earthland.

Yet it would seem not all of them were of such noble intentions.

"The most common chemical used for freezing is called Liquid Nitrogen or LIN. It can cause severe frostbite and kill the cells. A warm bath of thirty-seven degrees Celsius oughta thaw Happy and revitalize his cells."

"That's it?!" Nashi exclaimed, both thrilled yet also skeptical. The answers never come that easily.

"Yeah, Ash Breath. As I thought you knew, most Alchemists are good guys. They wouldn't make chemicals that would take too hard to take care of, even if they are dangerous. And of course these guys would want an easy way to handle this stuff in case of an accident."

Storm ran the bath while Nashi kept Happy warm.

Like a little family.

 _Get your head out of the gutter, Fullbuster._

The bath slowly melted the unnatural ice, and soon Happy had stopped shivering.

Storm dried Happy with Monsoon's towel and tucked the Exceed in between the couch cushions with one of his favorite Water Mage's blankets, while Nashi petted their recovering charge, who purred at the Dragonslayer's familiar touch.

Like a little family.

The ravenette hacked into his fist. _Shut up, Fullbuster. It's junk like that that gives Rosemary and Roxy the wrong ideas, that you've got a "thing" for the Pyro._

"You okay?"

Molten chocolate eyes and small, frowning lips.

 _Okay, maybe I've got a tiny, bit of a "thing" for her…_

Storm combed through his hair with his hand, scratching his one pierced ear with the cross-piercing.

Nashi buried half her face into her red, scaly scarf.

"Thanks, Snowflake."

The rosette determinedly hiding her blushing cheeks, grudgingly expressing gratitude was kinda cute, and "Snowflake" was one of her softer, nicer nicknames for him.

She was trying so hard it was fucking adorable.

"No prob, Little Star." He smiled.

It was one of Lucy _-san_ 's old fond names for her eldest daughter, and though the Celestial Spirit Mage had stopped calling her that, Storm liked to bring it up during the calmer moments between them.

Storm leaned against the couch's hand rest.

"It's a good thing you caught up to me in time. I was just about to leave on a mission."

Nashi brightened a little as she stroked Happy's fur once more.

"Yeah. Alexus sent me here. He said you'd know what to do but I'd better hurry 'cause you were going."

An Ice Make Mage is never meant to feel cold. But Storm was sure his heart was pumping slush rather than blood.

"What?" He asked carefully.

Missing his narrowed eyes and chilling tone, she flicked his forehead with a scowl on her pretty face.

"Alexus. Alexus. After beating those rogue Alchemists' butts, I ran to the guild to find Alexus since my flames couldn't melt the ice and warm Happy. He took one look at Happy and told me to find your frozen ass while he looked for the ones who did this."

Nashi hopped to her feet, unaware of the turmoil swirling in her rival and guildmate.

"Which reminds me, I better go and tell everyone that Happy's okay and that we could be dealing with some bad Alchemists. Master Laxus should know, too. Alexus could call him and Mira _-san_ with the guild's communication lacrima. They're still at that conference thingy, right?"

"Watch Happy for me, will you, Droopy-Eyes? I'll be back and don't worry, I'll tell everyone what a hero you were. Never knew a droopy-eyed stripper could ever be of so much use! " She laughed, poking his cheek before walking to the door, the lacey end of her yellow sundress billowing behind her.

 _Stop her._

 _Stop her now._

 _Don't let her leave._

 _Don't let her go._

 _She's going to him._

 _Stop her._

 _STOP HER._

"Huh? What's wrong, Ice Prick?" She quirked her head to the side, brows scrunched together.

He had stood up and come after her, grabbing her arm and holding the door shut with his other hand.

He couldn't even remember.

 _Yeah. Alexus sent me here. He said you'd know what to do but I'd better hurry 'cause you were going._

 _Alexus. Alexus._

 _Alexus could call him and Mira-_ san _with the guild's communication lacrima._

 _Alexus._

 _Alexus._

 _Alexus sent me here._

"So, I was just your second option?"

"Huh? Hey, what do you- mmfph!"

* * *

Storm eventually stands. He isn't sure how much time has passed, a few minutes, an hour, a day. All he knows is that the sun is still out and the front door hasn't been banged shut on her way out.

He steps downstairs quietly, freezing his heart against the short, pink-haired girl in her sweet yellow dress made from sunbeams who could burn every piece of him and leave ashes in his hollowed out skin if she so chose to do so.

Somehow, she has untied her wrists without tearing her beloved scarf, and has draped it over the sleeping Exceed.

Happy unconsciously pushes into her gentle touch, and she hums a wordless melody.

She knows he's here.

"You gonna keep on spouting shit, Freeze Face?"

It was as close to forgiveness for his stupid words as she will ever admit, and he cautiously sits on the other end of the couch.

"Nah. That was dumb of me."

And that was as close to an apology he will ever give her.

She stops her soft petting and eyes him suspiciously, expectantly.

"What, Matchstick?" He glares, but shuffles under the heat of her searing eyes that melted any façade he created.

She silently regards him, quiet and waiting. The underlying tactician of Natsu and the patience of Lucy decked out in sunshine and the hair the color of blushing school girls.

Nashi knows he knows.

Storm hated her for her quietude. For her forbearance.

"Why did you go to Alexus first?" He asks, refusing to answer the misgiving in her big, brown eyes.

He stands and reaches for her heart-shaped face, harshly grabbing her chin and facing her spitting-burning-cherry wood eyes and viciously contorting pink mouth to him.

"You're smart like Lucy _-san_ and strong like Natsu _-jiisan_ , and damn why'd you have to be this cute, but every tiny, itty-bitty problem that comes your way, you run to _him_!"

He seizes the filigreed lining of her abominable attire.

"He's the reason why you wore this right?"

His fingers race quickly up her back and roughly drag down her long, loose cerise locks.

"He's the reason you wore your hair up like that, hmmm?"

He runs his fingertips along her kiss-dampen jaw, just flickering over her bruised lower lip still glittering with strawberry lip gloss.

He vaguely recalls the sticky taste of artificial strawberries under her natural, overpowering spiced cinnamon flavor.

"Who? You mean Alex-"

"Don't you dare let that Take-Over bastard's name touch your sharp little tongue, Flambé Brain." He warns, can't stand the idea of her breathy voice whispering another man's name, another man's face in her fire-stewed brain.

She smiles at his demand, knowing and amused, and he releases his hold on her as if merely touching her would brand his skin with the truth.

But her palms graze his cheeks, and before he can pull away, he is pulled into her as he always has and will always be.

He takes in lungfuls of spiced air and mouthfuls of cinnamon, melting, melding, and burning for her.

Just a moment ago he was desperate to let her go, but now the Ice Make Mage wanted to be covered in her, to completely engulf the Dragonslayer, to scorch his flesh with the confusing, confounding, comforting, calming, crazy feelings he had for his spitfire.

She pulls away and exhales heavily, grinning victoriously. He chases her with his mouth, clenches her to him with his heated fingers.

"About the dress. Mom and Mira _-san_ wanted me to wear it. I was about to make a run for it, I was desperate enough to jump on a train, but she used The Eyes on me, the ones even the great Salamander can't refuse and seriously, I wanted to make her happy. She always wanted to do girly junk like this, so giving in to her one time wouldn't be so bad. I was wrong."

"And about Ale-"

She dodges his precision kisses with surprising accuracy.

"-Alexus, he's like the big brother of Fairy Tail's kids, like Asuka _-chan_. And you know Master Laxus and Mira _-san_ always leave him in charge when they aren't around. Even more so than Rosemary, Alfonso, and Nova, Alexus is the most responsible of all of us, he should know what's going on and what's happening. Especially when it's trouble."

 _Oh._

 _OH._

"You really have an ice block for a brain, huh? Hope that melted through your thick, cold skull." The rosette simpers, pecking him once again for certainty, leaning back while keeping him away with her hands in his dark hair.

She raises a delicate eyebrow above doe-eyes, smiling smugly.

Storm flops on top of her, nuzzling her neck, following the curve of her throat with the tip of his nose.

She really did smell like cinnamon.

He's wrenched from her warmth and sweetness.

"Could I take a shower? I kinda reek of you." Nashi crinkles her pug nose, and he pushes back the urge to tweak it between his forefinger and thumb.

"That's rude, even for you. Why, do I stink?" He masks with a retort.

"Well… No, that isn't it. You smell like mint. And… limes? Something citrusy. It's nice. But Dad's going to be pissed if I come home 'smelling like Stripper Jr.'"

"Yeah, I don't want Daddy Dragonslayer third-degreeing my ass. You know where to go." Storm pales, and flushes once again when the casual mention of how he smells finally sinks in, but before he can question her further she has slipped from his grasp yet again and was bounding up the stairs.

Such is the nature of fire. Uncontrollable, uncontainable.

And breathtakingly beautiful, enviably essential.

"You llllllllllllllike her~" Happy, the little fucker, teases even while invalid, rolling his tongue thrice more than he usually did.

 _Shit, how much did Happy see?_

He rolls his eyes to refute the flush in his pale cheeks. "Glad you're better, Happy."

 _Okay,_ Storm whispers to himself as he hears his Flambé Brain, his Ash Breath, his spitfire, his Little Star, close the bathroom door, possibly with one of his shirts she probably ransacked his dressers for in her hands, _maybe I really do like her._

 _Maybe I like her a lot._

 _More than just like-like._

"Just don't tell Natsu _-jiisan._ He'll barbecue my head."

 _Maybe I love her._

* * *

 **Author's Ramble: Hi~ First fic for this fandom, so please be kind! I love Natray/Gratsu, but canon so, you know... But, no one ever said a Dragneel and a Fullbuster ca't be together in the next generation, sooooo...~**

 **My good, dear friend** _Jo Bernard_ **gave me this idea, Sweets you are a blessing~**

 **And if any of you would care for another Storm Lockser-Fullbuster X Nashi Heartfilia-Dragneel, just leave a review with a prompt and let's make it happen!**


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